Capsize
by Miss Flame Sniper
Summary: He should have called Haibara. The reasonable part of his mind knew that it was too late.Everything seemed nebulous to his eyes as he struggled to pull the miraculously intact cellphone out of his pocket. Damn, the fight almost broke his arm too. Praying with all of his heart that she would pick up, he pushed the call button.


Disclaimer: I do not own Detective Conan and its characters. They all belong to Gosho.

I do admit that this is inspired by the song Capsize by Emily Warren and FRENSHIP

* * *

He should have called Haibara.

The reasonable part of his mind knew that it was too late. One hand pressing on the gaping wound on his stomach to buy as much time as he could, Shinichi reached for the pocket of his tattered pants. Everything seemed nebulous to his eyes as he struggled to pull the miraculously intact cellphone out of his pocket. Damn, the fight almost broke his arm too. Praying with all of his heart for her to pick up, he pushed the call button.

"Hello, It's Ran Mouri."

* * *

Thing is, it's supposed to be movie night with Sonoko at the Suzuki mansion. For some reason, Ran opted to stay at home by the phone to watch for customers instead, much to the teasing of the Suzuki heiress. "Waiting for your husband's phone call, Ran?"

Speaking of phone calls, she better get that unless the customer decided not to ask for her dad's help. But wait, this call is to her personal cellphone.  
"Hello, It's Ran Mouri."

Silence.

"Hello?"

"…Ran."

With just one word, he made her heart flutter.

* * *

"Shinichi!"

She was so happy to hear his voice that for one moment he started wishing. Wishing selfishly to go back to the day it started. Wishing selfishly to be by her side and hold her and tell her not to cry.

He knew it was too late.

"Hey, Ran." He breathed out. "I'm sorry for calling so late."

"It's not a problem." She smiles cheerfully on the other side of the line. "I'm glad you called. Seriously, I've started to think that you forgot about good ol'Ran here."

He laughs, and it was much more hollow that he could have imagined.

"I just…needed to hear your voice and talk to you for a minute."

Had it been any other normal day, Ran would have blushed like a tomato and faint on the spot, but his choice of word made her sad and alarmed at the same time. Shinichi rarely, if not ever, use the word "need", much less to a trivial thing like talking to her.

"Oh shut up, Ran. You are romanticizing it again." She scolded herself mentally and resumed a cheerful face.

"So when are you coming back?"

"Ran, please listen." He said, breathlessly, barely holding on to reality. "That day, when I left you at Tropical Land, I stumbled upon something much bigger that meets the eye. A crime syndicate, Ran. A crime syndicate, stretching over the high mountain of the Americas, the poor suburban in Africa, the nooks and crannies of high society European parties. They tried to poison me, but I survived. Barely survived."

"Shinichi…You meant to say that all this long time, you were chased by a dangerous syndicate? Then you should have asked for help, not chase after them! You are seventeen, barely an adult!" She was yelling now, worried, annoyed, but for the most part terribly afraid for his life.

He chuckled.

"I should have listened to you, when you said not to pursue the case. But I got them. After all these months, I got them at last. Luckily for me, I got friends who helped toppling them. This will probably be on the news tomorrow, but I figured you wanted to hear it from me first."

"Shinichi I-"

"No, Ran, please listen to the end. I'm so sorry for hiding and lying from you, but if that was what it took to keep you away, I would not hesitate to lie again. I'm sorry for all the times you cried, thinking of me, for all the times you worried yourself to death for my safety, for all the late night phone calls that rarely ever came. I'm sorry for not being there when you needed me."

By now, his voice had gotten so exhausted, raspy and weak that Ran was sure he was hiding something much more serious.

"What are you doing right now, Shinichi? Are you on your way home? If that is the case I'll come pick you up, come on, tell me where you are!"

Letting his phone slide to the ground, Shinichi too slowly slid from the column he was leaning against, the rough metallic surface scratching his jacket full of rips from knives and bullet holes.

"It will be alright, Ran. I can see the end now. Can you remember something for me though?"

"Of course, Shinichi. Anything." She said, and he knew that she meant every word.

He took a deep breath and whispered his last words.

"I think about you, love you, and I am filled with pride."

The line disconnected.

* * *

They found his corpse two hours later, at midnight.

He was still leaning against the rusted column, still holding the bloody cellphone, his silhouette lonely, glaring against the moonlight. Gin had not been merciless, evident by the bullet wounds. Shinichi was shot twice in the stomach, once in his left arm and two in his right. A knife was still lodged in his left leg and there were evidences of at least three bullets grazing his forehead. Despite the ammunition disadvantage, Shinichi had managed to turn the tables on Gin and Vodka, the former died of two bullets to the head and the latter, a powerful smash in the face from a small steel beam.

Thing is, Ran turned on the television.

His phone call last night should have left her blushing and grinning from ear to ear, but the finality in his voice dug a hole in Ran's heart.

"A dangerous crime syndicate, spreading all over the continent was overthrown last night. The FBI and CIA had managed to arrest the boss and raided their facilities. As it turned out, many of our own high-ranked officials was a leading figure in this organization known for their liquor and wine codenames. Actress Chris Vineyard, for one, was in close relations to the boss. In light of this victory, countless of agents died in the process; the youngest deceased was only seventeen years old."

No.

"Surprisingly, the long-missing High School Detective of the East, Shinichi Kudo, was monumental in the toppling of the crime syndicate, providing the FBI with countless tactics, major information, and was one of the first to give his life for the sake of others."

No, no, this isn't true.

"We offer our greatest condolences to his parents, the writer-actress couple Yusaku and Yukiko Kudo."

Ran sank down on the floor, the voices from the television forgotten as salty tears cascade down her cheeks.

Not true. Not true.

Not true.

* * *

His funeral was on a rainy day. The media, for once, had listened to his parents' request not to put it on television. Yukiko shed silent tears for her only son in Yusaku's embrace. Professor Agasa pushed Haibara up the hill in a wheelchair, holding the umbrella for her as they approach his grave. The entire police department came, and so did the FBI agents. The players from his soccer team showed up with an enormous bouquet of flowers, and customers whom he helped throughout the years showed up. Hattori and Kazuha, hand in hand, traces of dried tears on their cheeks.

Funnily enough, she wasn't that surprised to hear that Conan was Shinichi. At that time, though, Ran was probably too heartbroken to care.

She stood in silence hours after everyone had left.

"How am I going to move on from you now, Shinichi?" She whispered to the wind.

Ran put a red rose on his grave and bend down to touch the cold stone.

"I still think about you, love you, and I'm filled with pride."

For one moment, she saw Shinichi, hands in his pocket in his signature pose, flashing her a ghost of a smile.

When she blinked, he was gone.

* * *

I realized I'm very terrible at writing happy stories...


End file.
